Last Chance at Love
by ChelleLew
Summary: Machelle faces several devastating losses at the same time. As she tries to recuperate and rebuild, she meets someone suffering similar losses and pain. Can they rebuild and fight through the mistrust together to find their last chance at love?
1. Losing Love

Machelle rolled over and stretched. Her hands touched cold sheets on both sides of the bed, again. Sighing, she threw the sheet off her naked body and headed for the shower. She looked in the mirror, shaking her head as she looked at the whisker burns that were still evident on her chest. He was such a passionate lover, that's why this hurt so damn much. _Where did he sneak off to so early in the morning? Was is her? Again?_

Machelle took a leisurely shower, but he still didn't show up. She packed her bags. Still no sight. No call. She looked at the time and knew he was going to be cutting it close getting to the bus. She packed his things and sat down to write a note.

Randy,  
>I missed you this morning. After such an amazing night last night, I wanted to wake up in your arms again.<br>We've had such good times, such good memories. I don't know why we seem to be growing apart after so many months together.  
>I know you will get this as you are running for the bus. Everything is packed. I am glad that I came to see you when I could and hope that you call when you can.<br>I'm on my way back home.  
>Elle<p>

* * *

><p>Three hours later, Machelle pulled into a gas station to fill up her tank. There was still no word from her boyfriend of six months, Randy Orton. She kept thinking back over all of the good times they'd had, the sweet things he'd done, the really hot sex they'd had. The feeling she had in the pit of her stomach was that he'd gone back to his womanizing ways. <em>Why wasn't she enough for any man?<em>

She pulled back onto the road, driving on autopilot. She didn't pay attention to anything or anyone around…not until she reached the four-way stop and her brakes failed. Her car sailed through the intersection, picking up speed on the decline of a hill. As she reached the incline of the next hill, Machelle's car began to slow down. Her heart was pounding as she looked around and tried to think about what to do. _How should I stop my car when I don't have any brakes?_

Something caught her eye in her rear view mirror. Terror like she'd never known filled her body. Chills raced up and down her spine. Her heart, which moments ago had been racing, now stopped. Machelle could clearly see the face of her ex-husband driving the large truck racing up behind her just prior to impact. The jolt of the truck slamming into the back of her car sent the car flying forward. Machelle fought for control._ I will not die like this. With everything that I have fought through, I will not die at his hands…not like this._


	2. Fighting for Life

Machelle fought for control of her car. She watched as the truck behind her backed off on the declines and caught up to push her car on the inclines. With a shaky hand, she fumbled for her phone and called 911. "P-p-ple-ase help me. My ex-ex-ex h-h-husb-b-band is b-b-b-behind m-m-me and h-h-he is t-t-ttrying t-t-t-to k-k-kill m-m-me. I-I-I-I d-d-d-don't have b-b-b-brak-k-kes."

The dispatcher started to ask follow up questions. "Okay, ma'am. We are going to send help. I need to know your na…" The calm voice stopped speaking as the sound of screeching metal filled the air. Machelle's car was rear-ended again. She held onto the wheel and maintained control of the car. "You are doing very good. Hang on. What's your name?"

"Elle." she said softly.

"Elle, help is on the way. Tell me what you see. Landmarks, street names. Talk when you can."

Machelle described the small towns and called out street names that she passed. She told the dispatcher the name of the gas station that she had used to fill her tank. She named her ex-husband and described his truck. She squealed each time he rear-ended her car. "I can't keep this up." she cried.

"We are almost there. I promise." the dispatcher said. "You should hear sirens in the next 90 seconds."

"I can't hold on that long." She looked in her rear view mirror. "Here he comes again." Metal screeched on metal. Glass shattered. Machelle saw pavement, sky, pavement, sky, grass, sky, and then grass. _Is that grass? Maybe that is wheat. Or is it grain? _Machelle tried to unfasten her seatbelt. As she reached for it, she heard his footsteps approaching. The little glass that hadn't shattered broke in the onslaught of the tire-iron that was swung in her direction.

"Bitch! You think you can have it all, do you? Who the fuck do you think you are? Fucking Randy Orton? Really?" Machelle tried to protect her face, but the end of the tire iron was coming into the car and hitting her shoulder and arm. She squirmed in her seat as he tried to reach further in, managing to hit her collar bone and the top of her chest. "Bitch! Bitch! You ruined my life! You ruined my life! I did nothing wrong, BITCH! And now you fuck Randy Orton! Die, bitch, die!"

"FREEZE! Put your hands up! Drop the tire iron! Step away from the car!"

Machelle heard the police drag him away. She heard someone kneel by the driver's side door and ask how she was. She clutched her phone in her hand and reached her hand out of the broken window. It was the last thing she remembered.

* * *

><p>Joe Anoa'i lay in his hotel bed in Nashville. The dull ache in his lower abdomen was becoming unbearable. He tried switching positions. He tried going to the bathroom. He tried a hot shower. He tried a cool shower. He tried a towel full of ice. Nothing provided relief.<p>

He picked up the phone and called his girlfriend. Voicemail. Again. He dropped the phone on the bed in frustration. The vibrations of the phone landing on the mattress had him drawing his legs up in the fetal position in pain. Reaching for the room phone, he reluctantly dialed 911. "I need an ambulance."


	3. Cheaters

Angry voices echoed down the hallway. A beeping sound was constant next to her ear. There was a periodic squeeze on her right arm and forefinger. As she became more aware, pain roared to life in her left shoulder, arm, and the left side of her face. A nurse came into her room. Through the open door, she saw Randy walk angrily past with his arm around another woman. He was yelling something at someone down the hall behind them.

"I am so sorry for the noise. There's a little lover's spat going on, we are getting that taken care of. Nothing for you to worry about, sweetie. We are so glad that you've woken up." The nurse was very kind, checking the machines and taking Machelle's vitals. "Are you in a lot of pain? You seem to be in distress. I can give you a little something. The police want to take your statement and then I can give you the good stuff." Her voice seemed to fade as Machelle drifted back off into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>"What the hell is going on, Joe?" Jon leaned against the wall opposite his best friend's bed. "You look more pissed than in pain, and…"<p>

"Don't you fucking say her name." Joe nearly snarled.

Jon held up both hands in a defensive position. "Hey, big man. I have no idea what's going on. Fill me in or don't. I just wanted to check in with you. See how you were. Missed you while I've been away on that movie." He pulled a chair up beside the bed when he saw Joe's hands shake and rub across his face.

"She's been cheating. She's been fucking cheating on me with Randy Orton. Can you fucking believe it?" Joe slammed his fists into the bed on both sides of his hips before grimacing in pain.

"Hey, hey." Jon wasn't sure what to say to his best friend, his brother. He hadn't seen this coming. What do you say to a friend in this situation? He had no clue. He wasn't good with this emotional crap. "You can't reinjure yourself. That doesn't help."

"Nothing helps. Not unless I get to beat that cheating fucker with his own dick."

"That just sounds gross, dude." Jon said, making a disgusted face.

"What am I supposed to do? Sit here and take it? I don't fucking think so."

"For now, you gotta focus on getting better. Then you can focus on the cheating bastards." Jon tapped his friend's leg. "I've got your back, man. You know that."

* * *

><p>Machelle was feeling a bit better the next time she woke up. The police had already taken her statement and she was allowed to try and eat something. She ended up settling on soup and soft bread because of the ache in her jaw. The nurse helped her to the bathroom and was assisting her on her way back to the bed when loud shouting echoed down the hall again. Machelle waved her away. "That sounds bad. Go. Go on. I've got this. If not, I'll sit down. Promise." The nurse took off.<p>

Machelle peeked into the hall, seeing a tousle-headed blonde shoving Randy out of another room. The men pushed, shoved, punched, and kicked until security arrived. A woman was hauled out of the room that Randy and the man had been in, screaming and crying. The blonde man looked really angry. He looked directly into Machelle's eyes as she drew back into her room. Randy's back was to her. He was still shouting at this man. Suddenly, with her heart pounding, Machelle found the nerve to step into the hall. Security almost had the blonde past her door and Randy was five feet ahead of them with two other guards. The blonde stopped struggling as he looked at her wondering what was going on.

Randy finally looked up. He stopped fighting and stood straight and tall. "What the hell happened to you?"

Machelle looked him square in the eye. "I guess you would know if you weren't off banging some other guy's girl." She turned around and shuffled back into her room, closing the door behind her. Randy began to struggle anew, fighting harder than ever. The guards holding the blonde released him and went to assist, all dragging Randy to the elevators and out of the building. In all the hullabaloo that Randy caused, the blonde slipped into Machelle's room. She was trying to ease her way back into bed, obviously in a serious amount of pain. He approached her quickly but cautiously, sliding his hands under her knees and behind her shoulders, and lifted her into the bed carefully and painlessly.

"My name is Jon. My friend is Joe. We are the reason…"

Machelle covered his mouth with her hand. "I don't want to hear anything about those two bitches in the hall."

Jon nodded. She dropped her hand. "My friend Joe is down the hall. He just had emergency surgery for an incarcerated hernia. Painful and unexpected…and that was before he found out about the – what did you call them? The bitches?" He patted the shoulder that didn't seem injured. "If you want to commiserate, I bet he'd like some company besides seeing me." Jon told her the room number before sneaking out of the room, knowing that security would be back to look for him soon.


	4. Shared Pain

Machelle laid in her bed in silence. Go visit the other man? The one whose woman Randy was banging? No thank you. She felt stupid enough. Her ex-husband had cheated on her and left her for another woman. Randy had cheated on her. What was wrong with her? Why wasn't she enough woman to keep a man? Now her ex-husband tried to kill her. Obviously the problem was with her, right? She was the common factor in all of this. Nope. She was staying right here. Right here in this bed. Not moving. Well, not moving except she had to pee. She slowly maneuvered her way out of bed and into the bathroom. Once business was taken care of, she opened the door and began her slow trek back across the tile floor. She swallowed a shriek when she realized she wasn't alone.

"Hi." The most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes on sat next to her bed. He had long, nearly black hair and a goatee on his chin that he hadn't trimmed in a couple of days. He had what some would call an olive complexion; Machelle just called him perfect. His hands were folded between his knees and his head was down when she entered the room. He had looked up as she shuffled closer to the bed.

"Hi." she whispered.

"Jon said you'd be too shy to introduce yourself." Machelle grabbed for the footboard of the bed. "Jon's a great friend. He knows I need a few. You probably do, too." She still didn't speak. "Did Randy do this?" Joe came to her side and touched the side of her face.

"No. No, Randy never laid a hand on me." she whispered.

He pulled out his phone. "Jon. Ease up man. It wasn't him." He hung up quickly. At her questioning glance he said, "Jon leaps before he looks. He saw your bruises and he'd just been in a fight with Randy. He put two and two together and got…"

"An abusive Randy." she shook her head. "It wasn't Randy. Randy may have left me alone in the hotel on occasion but he never raised a hand to me."

"You've traveled with Orton and I've never seen you? How is that possible?! No, no. Never mind." Joe shook his head, making his silky hair tumble forward over his shoulders. "That's not important." He put his large hand on the small of her back and guided her closer to the side of the bed. "Let's get you back into bed. You need to rest."

Machelle looked up at the 6'3" man towering over her. "Why are you here? You just had major surgery. And this is all so fucked up. You can't possibly be telling me that you are so hard up for friends that you are scrounging after Orton's leftovers." She began to crawl into the hospital bed in quite the inelegant fashion. Joe's gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her, mid-crawl. One leg was on the bed, one was still on the floor. One arm was trapped in a hospital sling and the other was gripping the side of the mattress. The gown was riding up on her thigh. That beautiful hospital gown.

"Don't ever refer to yourself as 'Orton's leftovers'. You are a much better person that that. And he is a fucking bastard doesn't know what he's done or who he's done it to." Joe let go of her shoulder and lifted the sheet. Once she lay down, he covered her up to the neck and leaned against the edge of the bed heavily. He folded his hands in his lap and stared at them again.

Machelle reached over and touched his arm. "We make a fine pair, don't we?" she mumbled. He harrumphed softly. "I don't want to talk about them." He nodded once. "Are you in a lot of pain from your surgery?"

Joe moved back to the chair that he had been sitting in before. He found a somewhat comfortable position and met Machelle's eyes. "Nah. They still have me on some nice pain killers. When I come off of those though…"

"I guess you don't want a pee test right now, huh?" She started to chuckle but ended on a groan. He joined her in groaning.

"So not funny." He held his belly. "Laughing is not comfortable. Ouch." He brushed some of his hair back over his shoulder. "I never did catch your name."

"I'm Machelle. But my friends call me Elle." She replied, picking at the sheet.

"I'm Leati Anoa'i in real life and Roman Reigns in the wrestling world, but you know how that works. My friends call me Joe. My parents and grandparents are the only people who call me Leati, mainly because everyone else pronounces it wrong." He looked down at his hands again, as if he was embarrassed he has said so much.

"You are proud of your Samoan heritage." He raised his head once more. "I heard that the sleeve tattoo has a story. Or the symbols have a story, the parts in the sleeve?"

A big smile flashed on Joe's face. "I am damn proud of my family and my heritage." He slid his chair closer to her bed and extended his tattooed arm. "So you wanted to see a Samoan sleeve up close?"


	5. Recovery Begins

**_four days later_**

Joe was happy to be free of the hospital. The doctor ordered that he take it easy, but he was allowed to travel. He felt almost normal, attending an autograph signing in New York. He was able to spend time with Jon and rest in the hotel out of sight of fans. He ignored calls from his former girlfriend, refusing to disrupt his peace. Every once in a while he did think about Elle, the woman he chatted with in the hospital several times. She seemed so nice and funny. She never did say what happened to land her in the hospital, only that Randy wasn't responsible. _Randy Orton, that stupid fucker. _Joe's blood started to boil again. _Deep breath, man. Deep breath. _Joe lay back on the bed and folded his hands on his chest. Damn, it would feel good to hit the gym for a few hours and work through his frustrations but he was restricted for the next few weeks. _What to do, what to do…_

* * *

><p>Machelle looked around the rehabilitation center. The doctors said she could leave the hospital, but only if she went to a rehabilitation center because of the injuries to her chest, arm, and the side of her face. It was only now that she was off of the heavy duty pain medication that she realized just how much she hurt. She walked into the bathroom and pulled up her shirt. Her stomach was a patchwork of mottled purple, green, yellow, and pink, courtesy of the seat-belt restraining her as the car flipped multiple times. She had been told it was miraculous that she didn't have broken ribs or massive internal injuries. Machelle dropped her shirt and sat heavily in the only comfortable chair in the room. <em>How long had Randy been cheating? How had she not known? How had she been so blind? What was wrong with her? <em>She closed her eyes as tears began to well. First her husband cheated and they divorced. Then she met Randy and he did the same thing. _Why couldn't she keep a man interested?_ She thought back to the conversations she had with Joe in the hospital. Funny, sweet, attractive Joe. Why would he be interested in her? She looked hideous and she couldn't keep a man's attention anyway. Obviously the only reason he had talked to her was because he had felt sorry for her. He'd forgotten her by now, anyway.

* * *

><p><strong><em>end of week one in the rehabilitation center<em>**

Machelle had been on the elliptical for 30 minutes. The trainer was paying careful attention to her form, how she held herself with her good hand, how she used her abdominal muscles, and how she moved her healing broken arm. Machelle pushed though the discomfort and kept her heart rate at the target that had been set for her. "Good job. Very good progress. Let's take a little break." her trainer praised her. Machelle took a small drink of water. "I want you to take three laps outside; cool-down laps." Machelle nodded, adjusted her sling, and headed out to the track. On her way she thought she caught a glimpse of someone familiar. Shrugging it off, she regained her focus and began her laps on the outdoor track.

Finishing her laps, Machelle sat down on a bench under a tree for a few minutes. She closed her eyes and listened to the birds chirp. _Peaceful. Calm. Relaxing._

"You look at one with the world." A deep voice interrupted her tranquility. Machelle opened her eyes to find the other end of her bench occupied by a smiling 6'3" Samoan behemoth. "Imagine, both of us in the same rehab facility. What are the odds?"

Machelle shook her head. "What are the odds?" she repeated ruefully. "I heard they let you go to New York. Why do you need to come to a rehab?"

"Signing autographs was just sitting still, not a big deal. Well, it wasn't supposed to be. I kinda started to tire out there at the end. I'm not complaining though." He rushed the last sentence. "I love my fans and spending time with them. But the surgery and then finding out…"

"You just wanted down time. Alone time. Instead you were right there, in public, forced to smile through physical discomfort and emotional pain. I get it." Machelle said. "Probably really sucks being a guy and not having someone to talk to. Guys don't talk emotional crap like that, do you?"

Joe chuckled. "Nah. I'd rather hit the gym. Can't do that for a while though."

"So you'll start slow here and build up? It won't be the same though." Machelle started fiddling with her nails.

Joe turned to face her more. "You are so easy to talk to. I noticed in the hospital and I see it here. You just might make this place bearable."

"You are such a charmer." Machelle said as she stood up, shaking her head with a small smile.

* * *

><p>Over the next three days Joe and Machelle established an uneasy pattern. It didn't seem to matter who reached the common eating area first, the other was only a few minutes behind for breakfast. They began their morning rehab sessions within minutes of each other, their afternoon sessions were near each other, and they ended with cool-down laps outside together. It was during these cool-down laps that the pair took the time to talk, to encourage the other to keep pushing through the discomfort that they were experiencing and fight harder.<p>

It was on this third day that Machelle raised her hands over her head at the end of her workout, folding them behind her head, causing her shirt to ride up fractionally and expose a portion of her stomach. Joe's reaction was immediate. His mouth drew up in a frown. His arms tensed. The muscles in his neck corded and stood out. His eyes hardened as his nostrils flared. "Elle…Baby Girl…" He sucked in air, trying to calm down. Machelle looked at him in puzzlement at the nickname. He continued. "Elle, what happened to you?" She began to brush him off again. Joe stopped her, reaching for the edge of her shirt. "Your stomach…" He raised her shirt a hair, peeking again at the light green, dark green, yellow, brown, and pink splotches that were visible from his vantage point. "What the hell happened?"

She pushed his hand away with an annoyed huff. "Just leave it be. Hell is a good way to describe it and I don't want to talk about it right now. Not now. Okay?"

She turned to walk away from Joe. "Hey. I thought we were building a friendship. That's all. I just want to be here for my friend." he caught her arm easily, turning her around to face him again.

Machelle blinked back the tears. "As my _friend_, respect my wishes not to talk about that day. Not right now. I'll face it before the trial. Not now, not right now." She said as more tears welled up in her eyes. Joe pulled her into his arms and held her as she cried silent tears. Machelle quickly realized that she was being cradled tenderly against a very muscular chest. A delicious smelling, well-defined chest with a heart beating a steady rhythm against her cheek…the feeling was intoxicating and dangerous. _This man was trying to get over another woman. I am trying to get over another man. Our significant others cheated with each other. This is bad, bad, bad. So bad, bad, bad._ Machelle pulled back, keeping her face down.


	6. Randy Returns

**_end of week two in the rehabilitation center_**

A trainer was watching Machelle attempt the band pull apart. She held a huge band in her hands that looked like the Jolly Green Giant's old chewing gum and she stretched it as far apart as she could. The trainer said that this would help regain the range and motion in her shoulder. All Machelle could tell was that it made her shoulder tender. Gritting her teeth, she pushed through the discomfort and kept going until loud voices echoed down the hall and disrupted her concentration.

"I know she's here. I want to see her!" Machelle continued pulling on the band but glanced over her shoulder to see Randy trying to open the doors of the therapy room.

"Does he need to leave?" the trainer asked.

Machelle's head dropped fractionally. "I need to talk to him at some point."

The trainer took the band. "You usually take a lap around the cool-down track. I'm going to go sit outside under the tree, take him to the bench nearby. I promise I won't be eavesdropping. I just don't trust this guy."

"Thank you." Machelle said as the trainer gestured to allow Randy inside. Machelle led the way out.

"What the hell is going on?" Randy nearly thundered. "You disappear from the hospital and that was after I was barred from getting in to see you. Damn, Machelle."

"Randy, just stop. You aren't the wronged party here." she sighed. She headed for the bench and Randy followed. "Look, we had what I thought was a good relationship. Turns out I was blind to your cheating and controlling ways. Then, when I needed you; really, really needed you, you were dick-deep in Roman Reign's girlfriend. That's pretty low."

"And just what the hell do you know about that?" Randy smirked.

Machelle shook her head. "Randy, don't be so damned condescending. We were in the same hospital. Your fight was right outside my door. I saw you with her." She reached over and took his hand. "Look, I realize that I am not enough for you. I wasn't enough for Matt. I get that now. It's me. There's something wrong with me and I can't…I'm not good enough…There's something about me…" She looked away and regained her composure. "That didn't give him the right to try and kill me." She looked back at Randy, surprising him with the strength and resolve that shown in her eyes. "I will survive. I will be ready to testify. I can do this. I will find my own two feet. Maybe I can't hold onto a man, but I can fight back on my own and make damn sure he doesn't get away with attempted murder. I am not going to roll over and die silently."

Randy shook his head. "I didn't…It wasn't you, Elle. It had nothing to do with you. I swear, if I had known that's what you were thinking…" He reached over and caressed her cheek softly. "Had I known I would have made sure you knew it wasn't you, it was me. My God, woman. You are amazing. How can you doubt that?"

Machelle shook her head. "Matt had a girlfriend and wouldn't give her up. That's why we divorced. Then he beat me because I divorced him. If I was deserving of that…" Randy tried to cut her off but she plowed on. "When I met you I had begun to work through that stuff. You heaped all kinds of attention on me, making me feel so special. Then things went south again. If I couldn't keep your attention, if I couldn't be what you needed, then the problem has to be me. Two strikes, it's a pattern. You are two completely different men."

"You are comparing apples and kumquats. You are adding one plus three and getting thirteen. You aren't making sense. Sweetheart," Randy pulled Machelle close and tucked her against his side. "We fell apart because of me. Not you. They fell apart for their reasons and she and I hooked up. I liked having you with me because you took such good care of me. It was selfish. It was also a buffer because Joe wouldn't suspect if I had a girlfriend. We've broken up. It's not 'forbidden' anymore so the appeal just isn't there." Randy hugged Machelle lightly. "I thought about coming back to you, but I know I hurt you too much. I just didn't realize how badly Matt hurt you until I overheard Jon saying that you and Joe were in the same rehab center. He didn't know that I was around the corner." Randy leaned his head against hers. "You must have been terrified.

"At first all I wanted was you." she admitted in a tiny voice.

"And I wasn't there. Now you don't want me around." Randy acknowledged.

"Right now I don't want a relationship with anybody, Randy. I just want to heal."

"Can I come visit?"

"Joe is here. You were screwing the woman he loved. That's probably not wise." Machelle said softly.

"But what about you?"

"I'm not ready to try a friendship with you yet. Sometime in the future, maybe. But not now. It's too soon. It still hurts." she acknowledged.

Randy nodded. "Just so you realize that the issue was with me, not you. Never you." He kissed her forehead and walked away.

As soon as he was out of sight the trainer came over. "Are you okay?"

"I just want to go to my room for a while." Machelle said quietly.

"Okay. I'll see you for your afternoon session."

* * *

><p>Machelle shut her door softly, kicked off her shoes, and curled on her bed in the fetal position. Tears welled but refused to fall. Memories rushed at her from all sides. The first time she met Randy when they were both shopping in Under Armour. The time they shared an ice cream cone near the Arch in St. Louis and it fell on his shoes. <em>Damn, that pissed him off. I thought I was going to meet The Viper on that date.<em> Curling into her pillow, she slid into a memory.

Randy asked if she'd ever seen the beer making process. When she said she hadn't, he took her to the  
>Budweiser factory for a tour. As soon as they arrived they were taken on the public tour, but only the two of them were<br>in the group. Randy kept his arm around her waist or shoulders for the entire tour. Machelle leaned into him and kept inhaling the scents of the hops.  
>Oh, what delicious smells! Randy kept burying his nose in her hair. At several points on the tour they received samples of the products that were<br>produced. Machelle sipped and enjoyed her drink. Randy tossed his back and spent his time nibbling on her neck. When he thought no one was  
>looking, he pressed against her back and whispered, "Drink faster. We need to get back to the hotel…or somewhere private." The tour ended and<br>Machelle thanked the tour guide, shaking his hand as Randy pulled her away. Exiting the building, Machelle paused next to a Clydesdale to take a  
>picture. She was smiling and Randy was grimacing against her neck. He pulled her into a waiting taxi and growled the name of the hotel. He didn't<br>relinquish his hold on her hand as he stared out of the taxi window. When the car pulled up to the hotel, he tossed cash at the driver and hauled Machelle  
>towards the elevators. As soon as the elevator doors closed, she was pinned into the back corner and his hand plunged into her pants. He ignored<br>her pleas of 'camera' and kept her covered with his body, rocking his hand inside her underwear. "You are so damn wet. You are just as  
>excited as I am." he muttered into the kiss. When the doors opened, he took her other hand and pulled her down the hall to their door. He slid the<br>key in the lock, jerked her into the room, slammed the door shut, yanked her pants off, plopped her on the dresser, dropped his pants, rolled  
>on the condom, and slammed himself inside. Machelle scratched at his shirt-covered back as she screamed. "That's it. Cum for me." He ordered. She did.<p>

Machelle resurfaced from the memory with her hand in her pants and her hips rocking. _Dammit. Granted, the sex was hot. Randy knew what he was doing, there is no arguing that. __**But**__ it isn't worth the heartache and heartbreak._ She pulled her hand free and went to the bathroom to wash up, frustrated. Staring into the mirror, Machelle saw glassy eyes looking back. A firm knock at the door drew her attention.

Opening it, she was surprised to see an irritated Joe waiting on the other side. "So Randy came for a visit? And you met with him?" He walked right into her room and sat down.

"Um, come in and make yourself at home."

"Are you getting back together?"

Machelle blinked rapidly. "Ah…" Joe headed for the door. Machelle caught his arm. "Wait a second, Joe." Joe's chest was heaving. His nostrils were flaring. His breathing was so rapid that Machelle thought he was going to hyperventilate. She could feel his pulse rate under her hand and it was racing. "Why does it matter to you? Why do you care if Randy and I make up?"

His mouth opened and shut like a fish out of water. Then he said, "It shouldn't. But it does. Greatly." He pulled his arm out from under hers, slid his large hand to the back of her neck to tilt her head up at the angle he desired and whispered, "Just don't take him back. Ever." Then his head lowered, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was definitely not friendly. It was plundering and possessive. "He can keep her. **You** are **_mine_**. And I will **fight** for you."


	7. Dinner

Machelle crept into the therapy room quietly for her afternoon session. She peered around the room, looking cautiously to make sure Joe and Randy weren't lurking about. When a hand gently touched her shoulder, she jumped. Her trainer apologized for surprising her and asked what she had been looking for. "Or is it a who?" Shaking the trainer off, Machelle picked up the huge band and began the exercise that she had been doing that morning. She had to stretch the band as far apart as she could in a variety of directions and angles to help regain range and motion in her shoulder. "You have your intensity and focus back." The trainer complemented." That was true. Joe wasn't in the room. Randy wasn't causing a disturbance. Machelle was truly focused.

When the session was over, Machelle did her cool-down laps and headed for her room to shower. She knew that three weeks after the wreck, two weeks into rehab, she was making good physical progress. Emotional and mental recovery would take longer. _Don't those wounds always take the longest to heal?_ Machelle stood under the warm flow of water and meditated for several minutes. She searched for calm. Then she got out and dried off ready to lie down and relax, alone for the night.

The sun set outside her window. Machelle watched it from her bed, propped up on her pillows. Her eyes grew heavy as the sky turned from a beautiful shade of purple to a fiery reddish orange. Just as she was drifting off, a dark shadow appeared at her window. Machelle blinked her eyes open. She looked at the man peering into her window, his gray eyes meeting hers. "Open the door, Machelle."

She sleepily denied him. "I'm too tired."

"You skipped dinner. You skipped lunch, too. Open the damn door or I will kick the fucking thing in." Machelle flung her arm across her eyes. "Three." He moved away from the window. "Two." She heard him near the door. _Damn fool is actually gonna try it with that hernia thingie. Damn idiot._ She jumped up and ran to the door. "One." She yanked the door open. "Hi, Baby Girl." Joe was leaning against the door, one arm casually propped over his head. "I knew you wouldn't let me hurt myself." Machelle bit back a frustrated squeal as she turned and headed back to bed. Joe caught her elbow. "Would it be better if I told you I brought you dinner?" This drew a soft 'harrumph' sound, but no discernable answer as she pulled her arm away and sat on her bed. "I get it. I came on too strong. We are friends."

Machelle sighed heavily. "No, Joe, you don't get it. You can't get it because I don't understand it myself." Joe came over and sat down across from her, placing the food between them.

He reached over and took her hands in his large ones. Speaking softly, he said, "We've been so close over the last few weeks. I don't want to screw that up. We can spend some time talking tonight because I know you have a lot going on. Right now I just want to see you eat. I want to know that you are nourished and healthy." He ran his thumbs over the backs of her hands before releasing them and opening the bags of food. He opened a styrofoam tray with parmesan shrimp pasta, a second tray with a juicy thick steak, and a third container with cheddar bay biscuits.

"This didn't come from the cafeteria." Machelle murmured.

"Nah. I kinda made a call and had it delivered. This was better than what they were serving."

"Why would you go through the trouble of…Never mind." Machelle shook her head. "Don't go there."

"Let's." Joe smirked. "By all means, let's walk through the door you opened." Machelle threw up her hands and snatched the steak and biscuits. "That was…Never mind. Enjoy." Joe took the shrimp and scooted closer, making sure their knees touched. "We are similar, compatible in so many ways. It is easy for us to talk to each other. We work well together and work out well together. We just seem to match well, so well together. I think we should see where this goes." His deep voice seemed to slide over Machelle's skin like fine silk.

"You don't know me, Joe. Really, really know me." She focused on cutting the steak into bite-sized pieces and not on the fine specimen of man across from her.

"I know you like to work out to music with a beat. You don't care what genre. You like the corner piece of cake with all the frosting but you like the middle piece of brownie. I haven't figured that one out yet. You avoid nuts. You like Lays potato chips and Kettle Korn popcorn. Your favorite place to read is curled under that tree" he pointed out the window at the tree "on the bench with pillows and your Kindle. You can sit there for hours, until your water bottle is empty. I have been seriously tempted to switch my water bottle for yours and see how long you would stay there."

"My bladder would burst." Machelle murmured.

"That was my fear." Joe reached over to caress her cheek. "I wondered if I slid in behind you and leaned you back against my chest if you would be just as comfortable. If you would read aloud to me." She smiled softly as she shook her head no. "Why not? You don't like to read aloud? Or are you reading naughty things?" A blush started creeping up her neck. "That's it! You are reading dirty books! Now I have to get you to read aloud to me!" he said with a huge grin on his face. "Not out under the tree, of course. We'll read in here, together. The things you make me think of, woman. The fantasies…" Joe trailed off.

Machelle chewed hard and closed her eyes. Joe now had her dreaming of leaning back in the bed and reading from her latest book to him. Could she do it? She recalled a portion of the last chapter she read:

He froze. Then he lost it. All control. Denise found herself being stripped of her clothing,

pieces flying everywhere. She was lifted up, her legs were once again wrapped around

his waist, and the room was spinning. Her back met the mattress in the middle of the bed

as he slid into her. She arched and screamed. Her heels dug into his thighs. She rocked

up unable to contain the orgasm that powered through her as soon as they joined. Then

she felt him thrust. Oh, Lord she felt him. She went higher and higher. His fingers threaded

through hers. She was pinned to the bed.

A blush flushed her face. She opened her eyes and murmured, "Um, yeah. That ain't going to happen. Not in this lifetime."

"With that look on your face…Baby Girl…" Joe's voice had dropped an octave and rumbled deep within his chest. He slid his hand to the back of her neck.

She whispered, "Joe…"

He pushed the food to the side and pressed his lips to her forehead. "I know. I know. Not too fast. It's just so hard." He chuckled. "Ironically in more ways than one."

"Joe." Her voice took a warning tone.

"I know, crossing a line." he muttered, drawing in and releasing a deep breath. "Part of me wants to take my time, but the other part of me feels like I have to push this because I saw Randy. I know he wants you back." Joe's head dropped. Machelle almost had to strain to hear him, he spoke so softly. "Maybe I lost her to him, but we were dysfunctional anyway. You and I are different, we seem so…right. We deserve the chance. I just want the chance…"

Machelle raised her hands to run her fingers through his hair and lift his head. "A chance. Not like actually…"

"Too soon, I agree." Joe said. "Not a rebound." He slid his hands into her hair.

As Joe leaned forward Machelle whispered, "Kissing is too fast." Joe rested his forehead against hers as they both sighed. "We have to find an appropriate pace that we can both handle."

"How about I lean against your headboard and you lean against me? We can eat dinner together." he suggested.

"You want me to eat dinner in your arms?" she asked. Joe pulled back fractionally and looked at her. "No funny business?" He shook his head. She gave a brief nod and he shifted quickly. Before Machelle could rethink her decision, Joe was propped up against the headboard and she was positioned flush to his side, under his arm. The food was in their laps, and Joe had a forkful of shrimp pasta pressed to her lips. With a tiny smile, she opened her mouth and let him feed her the bite.


	8. Thinking and Talking

A rumble awoke Machelle. It sounded like a pencil stuck in an electric pencil sharpener stuck underwater; it would stop and start though. Grind. Stop. Grind. Stop. She tried to roll over, only to find she was trapped up against a warm, gooey mountain. Moving her hand, she came up with a handful of slimy, mushy noodles. Looking up at the mountain she was pressed against, she saw a mass of wild black hair. _The man snores like a freight train. A buzz saw on a freight train. Hell, angry bees trapped by a buzz saw on a freight train. Wake the hell up! _She whispered, "Joe?" and was met with a quiet groan in return. "Joe? Are you awake?"

"I am now." he muttered. She waited for him to actually wake up. "What am I laying in?"

"I'm guessing out dinner." she said derisively. "We seemed to be covered in noodles and sauce."

"Gr-re-eat." Joe drew out. "Lovely way to wake up." He added, "Although I do love waking up with you in my arms. I could do without the pasta, though."

"I want to shower. Alone." Machelle said, trying to get out of bed. Joe held her tight.

"If I let you go, promise breakfast with me in 30 minutes." he bargained.

Machelle smiled as she shook her head. "Deal. Now, go get your own shower.

* * *

><p>"You are late." As soon as Machelle sat down 45 minutes later, Joe was behind her as growling low in her ear. His deep voice did not intimidate her nor did it scare her. She did clench her thighs together to attempt to hide the dampening of her panties and the aroma of her arousal.<p>

"Scrubbing sauce out of my hair took time. Then I had to strip my bed and take my sheets to the laundry. I've had a busy morning." she explained before taking a long swig of her juice.

"I don't like to be kept waiting." he continued, sitting beside her with his food. "We had a date."

"Demanding man." she rebuffed. "Know your roll, Joe. Know your roll." Her voice took on a warning tone and he backed off.

"Okay. Here's the thing…I was thinking that we've both been busting our asses so hard with our therapy that maybe we could take a day together to sightsee. You know, go walking, see some sights, get a bite to eat...together."

"A date."

"A date."

"What happened to slow?"

"This is slow. Just you and me, walking through the city, holding hands, looking at stuff. No funny business." Joe promised.

"Tell you what…I'll go check with Sarah and if she can squeeze one workout in with me today, you can have me the rest of the day. I missed one the day that someone…So I don't want to miss too many this week." Machelle negotiated.

* * *

><p>For an hour, Machelle worked with her trainer on a new exercise – the backward medicine ball throw. This was definitely a workout for her shoulder and collarbone, which was a very good thing. As the two women worked out, Machelle picked Sarah's brain about what she was calling The Joe Situation.<p>

"Do you still love Randy?" Sarah asked.

"No. But that doesn't mean I should hop into bed with someone else." Machelle argued.

"Very true. Are you angry with Randy and want to hurt him? Get revenge on him?"

"No. If and when I see someone else, it's none of his damn business. I don't care if or when he finds out. I won't go out of my way to tell him, but I won't hide it either." She paused for a second. "And whether or not he's _schtupping_ someone else isn't of interest to me. He can do whatever he wants."

"Is this a case of 'she doth protest too much' or are you really moving on? I saw that man freaking out in here just yesterday." Sarah said, tossing the medicine ball to Machelle again.

"Randy was thinking one thing, but what that allowed us to do was put some closure to our relationship. We hadn't done that. It was a good thing. Joe didn't see it that way, though. Healing takes time, and I still have a ways to go."

"Baby steps. You are making progress. Don't rush. If anyone pushes you; Joe, Randy, Billy Joe Bob down on the Rodeo Drive; whomever, if they push you then they aren't right for you. You go at your pace. Except for in here. Here you go at my pace." Sarah's grin grew wide as she tossed the medicine ball harder.

Machelle muttered, "Evil bitch." and returned the throw.

"Damn right." Sarah smiled as they continued the workout.


	9. Day Out

Joe headed across the hall to knock on Machelle's door, only to hear his name ring out down the hall. He tried not to let his frustration show as he turned to face the man ambling towards him. "Hey, Jon. I didn't know you were coming to visit today."

"Eh, no biggie. Figured you could use a day getting sprung from this place." Jon said with a smile, slinging his arm around the big man's shoulders. "I thought your room was over there?"

"Yeah, it is. I was kinda gonna, well…" Joe trailed off.

"Oh, shit, man." Jon backed down the hall as Machelle opened her door. "I didn't mean to interrupt.."

"It's okay." Joe sighed. "We were going to go"

"out for the afternoon." Machelle continued when Joe stopped speaking. "Why don't you come with us, since you came this far?"

"No way in hell am I crashing his date." Jon said, still backing up.

Machelle shook her head and patted Joe's arm. "I have an idea. Talk to your friend." She rolled her eyes before heading off down the hall.

"What's she doing?" Jon asked Joe suspiciously.

"I have no idea. The fact that she is willing to spend time with me is all I can focus on. I really have to convince her that…God." Joe leaned back against the wall, dropping his head to his chest. "I can sit and talk to her for hours about anything. Do you know how rare that is? And to kiss her, damn. She is everything. She doesn't understand that, though. I have no idea what these other fuckers have done to her, but I can't lose her."

Jon looked at his friend, completely bewildered. "You are in rehab for a hernia and you are telling me that you found true love? Are you serious?"

"Actually I am telling you that you found her for me in the hospital. It is pure coincidence that we ended up here together, but I am not letting her go. And sure as hell not letting her go back to **_him_**. I guarantee you that." Joe looked down the hall and saw Machelle returning with Sarah in tow. "Apparently Machelle wants to make this a double date."

Jon's head swiveled around. "Hi, fellas. This is Sarah Fuller, my physical therapist and friend. She's free the rest of the day and wouldn't mind hanging around with us." He couldn't help but peruse her body from top to bottom, but he seemed to get hung up on her green eyes. Her green eyes that were meeting his blue eyes with a humorous twinkle. She raised one eyebrow and smiled. Jon returned her smile.

Joe scooted passed Jon and put his arm around Machelle's waist. "We can stand here and make goo-goo eyes at each other or we can actually go out and do something." he teased.

"I vote for doing something." Machelle said, leaning in to Joe. "I gave up working with my witchy therapist for a day out, so let's get a move on!"

* * *

><p>The day was just as Joe had described. Jon parked near the city docks so they began their day out looking at the ships in the harbor. Joe held Machelle's hand as they walked along listening to the seagulls and crows. When Jon began to get fussy, they surmised that he was hungry and discussed which of the nearby restaurants they would like to try for a light lunch. They ate at an outside table, enjoying the view. Sarah and Machelle each had a sandwich and chips. Joe and Jon's light lunch consisted of three pieces of chicken, salad, a bowl of fruit, and bread. The girls laughed at their "light lunch". Now that Jon was back to his happy self, they continued exploring the city, taking in the sights and going in to all of the attractions. By mid-afternoon, while walking down the sidewalk with Joe's arm slung casually over her shoulder and her arm around his waist, Machelle poked Joe gently in the stomach and pointed at the other couple. He grinned down at her, before kissing her forehead. Jon and Sarah walked slowly behind them, hand in hand. Joe and Machelle kept walking, giving the other couple privacy to get to know one another.<p>

"Jon's a really good guy, he just has lousy luck with women. He needs someone who isn't going to put up with his crap but still show him love. It's a delicate balance to find, even as his friend." Joe said, keeping their heads close.

Machelle rubbed his back. "Sarah is strong and protective. When you-know-who came, she was nearby at all times. I was never alone with him. He and I were on a bench and she was a few feet away the whole time, watching. She didn't trust him. Sarah looks out for people."

"I didn't know that." Joe said. "I didn't realize that she was there."

"Neither did he." Machelle leaned into Joe. "That was the point. Sarah was there to make sure I was safe and that I had closure. That I was good to move on…for my sake. She's good people. Jon needs to take good care of her – if he is interested and she's interested. She deserves a good guy."

"So do you." Joe kissed her forehead again. Then her nose. He finally dropped a brief kiss on her lips. As he went to linger a little longer, he got a shove from behind.

"Get a room, man!"

"Dammit, Jon!" Joe tried to put Jon in a headlock as the women both hollered, "Children!"


	10. Nighttime

Jon dropped Joe and Machelle off at the center and then drove Sarah home. Joe and Machelle weren't ready for the night to end, so they walked around the grounds together, arm-on-arm. Machelle was struck by how comfortable they were with each other, at ease and able to talk about day-to-day topics or nothing at all. Then there were the times when a hand would brush casually and awareness would race though…

The couple walked down the hall whispering quietly to each other. They started passed Joe's door when he suddenly drew up short and pulled her back, pressing Machelle gently into the door and leaning over her. He framed her face with one hand and whispered, "You are so beautiful."

"Joe…"

"Machelle…" he whispered against her lips. She leaned up to press their mouths together in a kiss that quickly became too intense for the hallway. Machelle curled her fingers, digging them into his shoulders. Joe stepped closer to Machelle, pinning her against the door, as he maneuvered and fiddled until it unlocked and opened, refusing to break the passionate kiss. Once inside the room, Joe slammed the door shut and backed against it, relocking the door. He hoisted Machelle in his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. She felt his hard arousal pressed against her and she could help but rock against it. Joe's head fell back against the door. "Damn…" Machelle dug her hands into his hair and rocked again. "Woman, I am trying to control myself here." She slid her hands along his neck to his back and followed with her lips, nibbling on his ear. Joe growled low, gripped her hips and stalked across the room. Reaching the bed, he knelt carefully and lowered her while reaching for her shirt. "You want to play, let's play." His voice had a definite rough quality in it. As soon as her shirt hit the floor, his mouth trailed across her stomach. She tugged on his shirt which quickly followed hers. Joe's fingers nimbly disposed of her bra…now they were chest to chest, skin to skin. Her sigh brushed his cheek. "Machelle…I want you, I need you. But we can stop…"

"Don't you dare." She pulled on his waistband with a snarl as he chuckled.

"Good to know." He tilted her head hand captured her mouth in another passionate kiss, tangling their tongues together in a fiery twist. Joe's hands slid down to Machelle's waist, underneath her clothes, and sliding them off in one fell swoop. It was her turn to giggle as he shucked his pants and underwear, crawling over her like a predator stalking his prey. His long hair hung loosely at their sides and his eyes glistened in their intensity. Machelle's knees were propped at his waist as he held himself over her. One hand ghosted across her flesh to their midsection, to grasp himself. As he growled the word, "**_MINE_**" he guided their joining, stroking her sensitive nub and making her squeal in the process. Over and over he plundered, thrust, rocked, and pillaged. Over and over she screamed, cried, shouted, and scratched and clawed to completion. Finally Joe grabbed Machelle by the hips and buried himself inside and she wept his name against his neck. He rolled and held her against his chest as he fell asleep, content that he finally had this woman all to himself.

Then next morning, Joe woke up alone.


	11. Morning-After Chaos

Joe blinked into the morning sun with a smile on his face, sliding one hand down his chest and the other across the bed. Finding nothing, he sat straight up, ignoring the pang where his hernia had been. The mattress was cold. The sheet tucked around his waist. Machelle's clothes weren't on the floor. _I told her she was __**mine**__. _Joe threw back the sheet, grabbed a pair of track pants and a t-shirt. _Leaving in the middle of the night isn't going to work, sweetheart. We go to sleep together and we wake up together._ Joe opened the door and froze in shock. Across Machelle's door was a huge X of yellow crime scene tape.

* * *

><p>Sarah leaned over to kiss Jon one more time before she got out of the car. "Hang on." he muttered. "I think I'll walk in with you. Maybe I'll hang out with Joe for a little while." He put the car in reverse and parked the car between two spaces. Sarah laughed and asked him to fix it, caressing his knee. Jon shook his head and did what she asked.<p>

Walking in to the center, the couple could hear Joe's uncontrolled ranting filling the hall and took off at a run. Jon caught Joe in an arm-bar and pinned him to the floor, trying to keep the man from hurting himself. Sarah saw the tape and went in search of security to find out what had happened. "Joe, Joe! Dammit, man, if you don't calm down, someone is going to knock you out and then you won't do anyone any good. Calm the fuck down! Get it under control, man!" Jon was in Joe's ear. "Mask it, man. Control it. Fuck, dude. Man up."

"The tape. What's it mean?" Joe asked, his voice breaking.

"Sarah's finding out. If I let you up, are you going to flip again?" Jon asked.

"I got it." Joe whispered. Jon let him go. Joe backed up, sitting against the wall outside his room. He stared at her door, unblinking. Jon sat beside him.

Sarah walked slowly towards them and opened Joe's door. "Let's go in here." Jon's brow furrowed. Joe shook his head. Sarah crouched in front of Joe. "I talked to security. I will tell you what they know, but not in the hall." She held out her hand. Jon held out his. Joe took them both and lead the way into the room.

Sitting on his bed, he could still smell their combined scent in the sheets. Tears filled his eyes. "Is she gone?"

Sarah grabbed his cheeks. "Not how you mean, Joe. Not how you mean." His head dropped to his chest as tears of relief began to fall. Sarah pulled his head back up. "Hear me, Joe. She is gone and she's not coming back. Matt is out and found her. Her room is destroyed. There isn't anything left." Joe blinked up at her rapidly. "You understand what I mean when I speak about Matt? You know what he did to her, what he put her through?"

"I know." Joe snarled.

"Who is Matt?" Jon was lost.

"Machelle's fucking ex-husband. The reason she was in the hospital and why she is here." Joe continued to growl.

Sarah tried to soothe Joe by rubbing his shoulders, but knew it was a fruitless endeavor. She also knew it was going to get worse. "With his attack on her and the way he hunted her down, she's been put in protective custody until the trial."

"But…But…But I could…She didn't…We didn't get a chance to…" Joe drew a deep breath.

"Even if you had, she couldn't have contact with any of us right now." Sarah whispered. "That's the thing about protective custody."

"But we just found each other." Joe wrapped his arms around Sarah's waist as the emotion overwhelmed him.

Jon moved behind his friend, laying his head on Joe's back. "You'll find each other again. Don't give up. She can't send messages to you, but you can code shit to her. Get your ass back on t.v. She'll know you are waiting for her and supporting her. That's what you need to do."

"Listen to Jon. He's making sense. You've come so far in your recovery. You can get back and she'll take comfort in that." Sarah agreed.

Joe stood up. "You're right. But I'm not waiting here, I'm going back now. She's going to need me now." He grabbed his suitcase and started packing.

Sarah left to take care of his discharge papers and after-care directions. As she walked down the hall, Jon ran after her. "What did you leave out? You didn't tell him everything."

Sarah shook her head. "How am I supposed to tell him everything? He can't take it. He's struggling enough as it is." Jon grabbed her elbows. "You can't leave him alone. He's going to need you. He's going to need everyone." He pulled her in for a huge hug. Sarah whispered into his chest, "They were taking Randy Orton into protective custody as well. Matt had some rather detailed threats against him."

"Oh, fuck. If Joe thinks they are together…"

"If I think who are together?"


	12. Protective Hell

**_after two weeks in protective custody_**

Randy sat beside the blanket covered ball on the sofa. "Machelle, you have got to eat. Come on, hon. Just half a grilled cheese, please?" He held a plate close to her chin, letting the scent waft up to her nose. "Half a sandwich?"

She sighed and pushed his arm away. "I'm not hungry, Randy. And I'm not your hon." She rolled to her side, curling away from him.

Randy set the plate on the table and flopped back beside her. "Dammit, Machelle! I hate being here, too. But we have to make the best of this. You have got to eat, keep up your strength. How are you going to fight if you aren't nourished?" He heard her mumble something into the sofa. "What? What was that?" She mumbled again. Randy scooped her up and plopped her into his lap. She struggled weakly but he pinned her arms to her sides and lifted her chin. "Now, what was that bullshit? Say that again." His eyes were blazing.

Machelle whispered, "I don't want to fight. Just let me go. It's not worth it anymore. Let him take me."

Randy wasn't sure what to say. He pulled her tight to his chest and hugged her tight as she cried. Propping his chin on her head he promised, "I'm not letting you give up. Not this time." Machelle was so wrapped up in her sobs that she missed the tears trailing down Randy's face.

* * *

><p>Jon looked at the unfamiliar number on his phone. <em>Do I answer or not? It could be a telemarketer and then I'd be pissed. But it could be…What the hell.<em> The deep voice that greeted him shocked Jon. "Don't hang up. I don't have a lot of time and I really need your help."

Jon sat down heavily on the workout bench, chest heaving as he panted from his workout. "What?" he snapped.

"She's not doing well." Randy whispered.

"What in the hell do you mean? Stop talking in riddles. Spit it out." Jon ran his hand through his hair.

"Machelle. I have been in a fucking 'safe location' with Machelle for two weeks. She won't eat. She barely sleeps. She won't speak to the goons that are guarding us, she is so pissed that this is going on. I get a few words but not many." Randy paused and Jon's stomach dropped. "Today she asked me to let Matt get her. She said it's not worth the fight anymore."

Jon cursed quietly. "Fuck."

"You have no idea how much it kills me to say this, but she needs Joe. If she doesn't get contact with him soon, she's…Dammit, Jon. I knew I hurt her. I lost her. I can't fix this, I can't fight this. It has to be Joe. She needs Joe." Jon knew Randy's muttered words were difficult to say and they came from the heart.

"Joe is hurting, too. He can't understand why she left without a word. He misses her." Jon was now pacing in the gym, his thumb in his mouth. "They aren't going to let him near her."

"Nope. If they figure out I called they'll move us. But I had to…"

"You did the right thing. And if you called Joe he'd have hung up on you." Jon thought for another second. "Does she watch wrestling?"

"Yes. That is the one thing that hasn't changed."

"I'll figure something out." Jon promised.

* * *

><p>Arriving at the arena, Jon searched out Colby. Even though they weren't The Shield anymore, the men were still friends. Jon knew if he was going to pull off a coded message to Machelle he was going to need help. He was also going to need this man's help in dealing with Joe when he told him about Machelle's state of mind, so he searched for Colby feverishly. Once he found the other man, Colby knew at a glance that something was terribly wrong. The two men headed for the stands to talk in solitude. "Hold up, hold up. Some ass has Joe's Machelle in protective custody with her ex-boyfriend Randy? That's why Randy is out? No wonder Joe's been so pissy." Colby shook his head. "Is this Matt fella really that dangerous?"<p>

"He pretty much ran her over with a car. That's why she was in the hospital where they met and why she was in the rehab center. But here's the issue we have to address now – She's breaking down. Randy said she has stopped eating and she's decided that there's no use in fighting anymore."

"Dammit."

"And I have to tell the Big Man." Jon said.

"After that, what's your plan? You said something about on the show." Colby prompted.

"Randy said that she still watches the show. Whether it's Joe who tells her to fight – but I think he's too close, or you – even though you don't know her, one of us needs to send her a message. I can Lunatic Fringe rant. It doesn't have to make sense to anyone except her. She needs to know that she's got to take care of herself. She's not alone and she has to fight." Colby was surprised by the passion with which Jon was speaking. He knew that Jon had been keeping company with a woman these last few weeks that worked at the rehab center where Joe had been, but he didn't think that Joe and Jon were seeing the same woman. Were they? When he asked, Jon laughed in his face. "Me and Machelle? Hell no! Joe and Machelle were solid from the time they saw each other. Machelle hooked me up with her trainer, Sarah. She and I…Yeah, well." Colby smiled. From Jon, that was saying a lot.

"So…you and me need a match tonight so you can go Fringe and send a message to Machelle. Mind if I send a little reminder to Randy? I still don't trust him after what he did to Joe."

"Sounds good to me." Jon agreed. "Now to go let Joe know what's going on."

* * *

><p>Randy carried Machelle into the bathroom. "You have two options, darlin'. You can get in this shower on your own or I can stuff your ass in there. Either way, you are taking a shower today."<p>

Machelle huffed in response as tears filled her eyes. "Why bother, Randy? No one is around. No one cares."

Randy clutched her face between his hands, baffled and frustrated by her depression. "What the hell is wrong with you? This is not the Machelle I know. Come on, woman. Fight your way out of this. Please." Randy kept one hand on her, ensuring that she stayed put while he adjusted the water temperature. "So…What did you decide? The easy way or the hard way?" She shrugged her shoulders. "The hard way it is." Randy muttered. He whipped his shirt over his head and pulled off his socks. He yanked off her robe, sat her in the shower, and climbed in behind her. As Machelle screeched, Randy pulled the shower curtain closed. He grabbed the shampoo and dumped a large squirt on her head. He knelt down and began to paw it into her hair, working up lather. "We aren't dating, so this isn't a fun shower. This is just a you-need-to-get-clean shower and you won't do it yourself." Machelle sputtered as shampoo and water filled her face and kept running into her mouth. "I let you wallow for too long. I do care, Machelle. I really do. You know I asked if we could be friends. I want to be your friend, to be someone you can count on. I failed you before, Machelle. I failed you…" Randy pulled her head up under the spray of water to rinse her hair and leaned down to kiss her forehead. The water hid his tears as he continued, "I failed you and I hurt you. I broke your heart. I'll never forgive myself for that. The only thing I can do is be the best friend that you ever need and make damn sure you never experience that again. You will always have me in your corner. I promise you." Randy pulled her up to stand. "I promise you that Matt will never get near you while I am nearby." He felt her shudder underneath his hands before leaning against his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. "You have a lot of people that care about you, hon. Joe misses you. He cares about you. Jon cares about you, too. It bothers them that they can't talk to you."

Machelle pulled back. "You talked to them?" she whispered.

Randy looked at the shower wall and told a little lie. "I know these guys. I know what they are feeling. I also know that RAW will be on soon and we should finish your shower so we can watch it."

"I can finish on my own." Machelle said softly.

"Of course. Just when it's getting to the good part." Randy teased, getting out of the shower and closing the curtain behind him. "Don't forget to wash behind your ears."

"Wackadoodle." she muttered.

"You love me." Randy responded.

"I used to. Then I hated you. Now I like you again." Machelle clarified. "I think I can put up with you for a little while, as friends." She turned off the water and stuck her hand out feeling around for a towel.

"Good to know." He said. "I'm going to go to the living room. The doors are open if you need anything just holler."

Ten minutes later, Machelle was wearing clean clothes and sitting on the sofa. "It's weird. I feel better after the shower but feel tired from dressing and walking…"

"Babe, do you realize how long it has been since you ate a full meal? You aren't exercising the way you should or sleeping right. It's going to take its toll on your body." Randy said as he sat down next to her with a plate of sandwiches. Machelle ate one and waved off the rest.

Half an hour later, her eyes were growing heavy as RAW began. She propped her head on her hand and watched with depressed interest until Seth Rollins stomped his way to the ring. Grabbing a mike, he started ranting about friends and people you thought you could trust. Then he started talking about touching things that don't belong to you. "Where is Randy Orton? Hmmm? His name gets mentioned with a hushed tone, doesn't it? Well let me tell you something, The Viper is out there somewhere tonight. I know it, you know it, and he knows it. This fight is brewing. If he knows what's good for him, he'll remember what he should be training for and where his focus should be. And where it shouldn't be. Isn't that right, Randy?" The camera was focused right into Seth Rollins face.

Randy looked at Machelle. "Do you think someone was sending a message to me?" he said with a sheepish smile.

"Please tell me that you and Seth were booked to feud anyway. Tell me that Joe isn't stirring up something at work that isn't necessary." she said softly.

"Oh, this has been booked." Randy assured her, turning back to watch Dean Ambrose stalk around the ring. "I wonder who he is going to talk to?"

"You know what really gets me? Really, Seth? You talk about trust. You talk about friendship. Where have you been, man? Where have you been when Roman needed you? Where have you been when he was laid up in the hospital or in rehab or when things went completely sideways? Who's been around to help hold it together? Hmm? Any ideas? No? I didn't think so." Dean paced the ring before stopping suddenly in front of the camera and staring into it. "Let me be crystal clear. Get your ass in gear. Focus. Train. Eat. Rest. Repeat. Do not lose focus. Do I make myself clear?" he paused dramatically. Then he repeated loudly "DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?" Seth answered by curb stomping Dean.

A smirking Randy touched Machelle's shoulder. She jumped and looked at him with huge eyes. "Jon just yelled at me, didn't he?"

* * *

><p><strong>Before anyone points out the ColbySeth and Dean/Jon name change at the end of the story - When they were on RAW they were in character and therefore I identified them by their character names. When they are in their 'personal' lives, I use their real names. **


	13. From Bad to Worse

For the first time since protective custody had begun, Machelle woke up and got out of bed without an argument. She was up and dressed when Randy was ready to go for his daily run. They went out the back door, across the back fence, through the alley to the next street, and then began their run. Machelle was happily surprised that she could almost keep up with Randy. Of course he wasn't running at his fastest pace, but she wasn't struggling to keep up. Randy watched her carefully, knowing that she hadn't been taking care of herself and she needed to rebuild her strength before pushing too hard. He had them return to the back of the house via a different route. As soon as they were inside the men guarding them questioned where they had been.

* * *

><p>"Do you think they got the messages?" Colby asked as he and Jon hit the Cross Fit that he was thrilled to find in the city that they were in for SmackDown.<p>

"I hope so. I really, really hope so." Jon panted. "I haven't heard from Randy since the show, though. I was hoping…"

Colby looked at Jon like he was insane. "You do remember that they are in protective custody and aren't supposed to have any contact with us at all, right? I'm glad that you heard something." Colby shook his head and went back to rowing with even, measured strokes. "We know that they can hear us. There's a path of communication that we can use, even if it is one way."

Jon rowed faster, harder. Colby watched the Lunatic Fringe take hold. "I thought that would be enough. Now…What if…I…We need to hear from them."

"Need to hear from who?" Joe asked quietly. "What have you been hiding, Jon?" Jon stopped rowing and stood up slowly, turning to face the unhappy Samoan.

"You didn't tell him?" Colby stage-whispered angrily. "Dammit, Jon!"

"I thought I'd have heard more." Jon defended.

Joe spoke in a slow, measured tone. "Start talking, Jon. Don't leave anything out."

* * *

><p>The following afternoon, Randy and Machelle were going stir-crazy inside the house. Randy had gotten Machelle to show him the exercises that she had been doing at the rehab center, some of which he was able to tweak with things they found in the house. Instead of stretching a band as behind her back, Randy found a large towel and had her pull that back and forth in a variety of directions and angles, effectively stretching the range and motion in her shoulder. Then he had her try traditional push-ups and exercises against chairs. They had repeated these work outs as often as was healthy. Any more would lead to muscle fatigue. Frustration and boredom were setting in.<p>

Since the guards were still conferencing with the powers-that-be on what to do with them and really not paying attention, they decided to go for run. Randy grabbed his wallet and phone, Machelle put her id and phone in her arm band as well, and they ran through the neighbors' yards until they reached the street.

"Now this is getting old, Randy. Since I have my head on straight, I don't want to hide." Machelle sighed. "I want to see people. Being here, you being stuck here, it's like it's my fault."

"It's not you, it's him. You just have to hang on for a little while longer. The trial is almost here." Randy assured her. "Once that is over, you and Joe can go back to your normal lives. I will go back to my life, only now we will be friends. Everything will be fine."

"I wish I could believe that." Machelle sighed. "It just seems like nothing will be 'fine' ever again."

They ran together for a while, stretching this run out. Then they came back to the house, approaching it from the front and crossing the side yard to enter the back door. As soon as Randy opened the back door, he stopped and pushed Machelle backwards. The metallic smell of gunpowder still hung in the air. Randy knew what blood smelled and looked like but he was not prepared for the bloodbath of the agents and guards that were inside the house. He straight-armed Machelle against the wall. He didn't hear any movement inside the house. He waited. There was groaning. "We have to call 911." Machelle whispered.

"We go in. You stay right by the door." Randy ordered. Machelle nodded. Her eyes were wide with fright. Randy tip-toed inside.

One of the guards that they knew well was 10 feet inside the door, gasping for each breath. Seeing them, he gestured towards his pocket. Randy approached. He got a set of keys. "Take…her…Run."

Machelle had dialed 911. "We are in protective custody by the Marshall Service. There has been a shooting by my ex-husband, Matt…" Randy dropped the phone, careful not to disconnect the call, and took Machelle out of the house. He clicked the 'lock' button on the remote until he heard a beep and then ran to the car, pushing her inside. They were driving out of the neighborhood as the first police cars were entering. "Quick response time." Machelle murmured.

Randy replied, "We will have to ditch this car. If Matt found the safe house, I don't think we can trust them. Let's get out of here and hide out on our own."

Machelle turned her frightened eyes towards Randy. "Do you really think we can do that?"

"With what happened in that house, I don't think we have a choice. When we are out of the city, I am going to call Jon. Maybe someone has a place we can lay low for a little while." Randy said softly.


	14. On the Run

Randy parked the car in a busy a mall parking lot. The couple went inside, blending into the crowd as best they could. Randy gave Machelle a quick hug and promised to meet back at the calendar kiosk in 15 minutes. He gave Machelle money to get a change of clothes and a hat. She knew better than to ask what he had planned.

Thirteen minutes later, Machelle emerged from the food court bathroom in her new clothes and headed for the kiosk. She surveyed the area quickly and headed for the center of the kiosk. From that vantage point she was able to casually peruse the calendars and glance about for Randy. Shortly after she arrived, she saw him coming down the corridor. She put the calendar down and began walking away letting him catch up with her and pass her so she could follow him. He led the way to a taxi. Once inside, he gave directions to a strip mall on the other side of town.

"Trust me." he whispered to Machelle.

"I have so far." she whispered back. The rest of the ride was silent.

Once they arrived, Machelle realized that there were many businesses and hotels in this area. Randy paid the driver and they began walking. "What's our plan?" Machelle asked.

"We need to buy some time. I talked to Jon, so we have someone coming to help get us out of here and hide out. For the next few hours we are on our own." Randy looked at the hotels. Then he looked at Machelle. "Are you ready to be bad?"

* * *

><p>"What exactly are you telling me, Jon?" Joe stood beside his friend and brother, feet shoulder-width apart and arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were as hard as Jon had ever seen them.<p>

"Yes, I talked to Randy. Yes, I sent a message to Elle went I ranted on Raw. Yes, she has had a really rough time. And yes, I chose not to tell you because you have been a real ass lately. I didn't think you should hear that she was having issues since I didn't know how you would handle it." Jon explained again.

"Who made you God?" Joe asked, obviously frustrated. "I had the right to know."

"Hey, guys. Come on. We are all worried about them. Don't fight each other." Colby tried to play peacemaker…again.

"I could care less about HIM. I want Machelle by my side. Whole and healthy." Joe clenched his fists and began to pace.

It would be at this point that Jon's phone would ring with an unknown number, which he immediately answered. When Randy began telling him what had happened, Jon walked away from Joe knowing that the big man would lose his head when he found out the latest complications. "Someone will be there to get both of you. Lay low." Jon walked back over towards Joe and sat down, patting the cushion at his side. Joe shook his head. Jon smacked the cushion. "Sit." Colby sat beside Jon. Joe finally sat across from him. Jon grabbed Joe's hands. "They are both alive and not hurt. Okay? That is what is important." Joe glared at Jon.

"What's going on, Jon. Spit it out." Joe growled.

Jon took a deep breath. "The house they were hiding in got hit."

"What the fuck?!" Joe started to jump up but Jon's grip on his hands kept him anchored in place.

"Randy and Machelle had gone for a run so they weren't in the house at the time. Everyone who was inside was killed. In Randy's words, it was a bloodbath. One of the guards was still hanging on when they returned so they know that it was Matt. They don't know who leaked the information. They don't trust anyone right now. Well, they don't trust anyone but us."

"Us? That's why Randy keeps calling you? I haven't heard from…"

"Shut up, Joe. Let Jon finish. What are they doing?" Colby asked anxiously.

"They are on the run. They figure that they stand a better chance on their own than with the Marshall's Service if there are leaks. So they want to know if there is a place to hide until the trial. Do we know of a place that is off the grid?" Jon asked.

"I'll find something." Joe growled angrily. "Elle isn't going to be running around the country with HIM if I have any say in the matter.

"Focus, Joe. They are both alive and depending on each other to stay that way."

"And I don't like that. Dammit!"

* * *

><p>"We just checked into five hotels in an hour and a half. That has to be some kind of record." Machelle giggled.<p>

"The record was messing up the rooms. When someone checks them, they won't be able to tell if we are staying in any of them. Planting hairs was a genius move!" Randy chuckled.

"Any idea when the cavalry will arrive?" she sighed.

"Soon, I hope. Very soon." Randy gave a reassuring hug Machelle. They had walked away from the hotels and mall area and found themselves near a long term parking lot near the airport. Looking around and not seeing any surveillance cameras, Randy found a spot underneath a large tree to sit down. He wrapped his arms around Machelle and pulled her to his chest. "Relax. I've got you. Take a little nap. It'll do you good."

* * *

><p>"Where the hell are they? How far could they have gone?" frustration and panic were evident in Joe's voice.<p>

"Calm down, man. They are fine." Jon assured his worried friend as they drove through the city looking for Machelle and Randy in a tinted SUV.

"She's been out here for hours. Alone. Dammit! I should have looked for her when they yanked her out of rehab!" Joe smacked the dashboard.

"For the love of Pete, she isn't alone and chasing after her at that point wouldn't have done any good! Now would you shut up and LOOK! They are here somewhere. We need to find them before the feds or Matt, you asshole! Stop whining." Colby piped up from the back seat. He peered out of one window and then another. "Think, Jon. If you were out here and didn't want to be found, where would you go? Somewhere not too dangerous. No surveillance cameras. Quiet. No one would bother you or notice you."

Jon looked around. Something caught his eye. "Got it!" he exclaimed.


	15. Rescued

Jon was wheeling the SUV threw the streets of the city as the men searched for Randy and Machelle. Colby said, "Think, Jon. If you were out here and didn't want to be found, where would you go? Somewhere not too dangerous. No surveillance cameras. Quiet. No one would bother you or notice you."

Jon looked around. Something caught his eye. "Got it!" he exclaimed. Joe held on as Jon spun the wheel and screeched the tires as he swung a wild left turn. The SUV jerked forward as Jon floored the accelerator, causing the passengers inside to grasp any hand-hold they could find. Colby looked to the right and didn't say anything as he saw one floor of a hotel smoking. Joe didn't need to panic. They barreled along, not stopping at intersections as Jon seemed to be focused on a particular destination. Colby looked back and watched fire trucks head towards the hotel. Wouldn't that be the area to check? What did he know? Jon looked at the sky and turned left again. Now they were headed completely opposite from the hotel. Colby opened his mouth to speak. They past a fire truck, sirens screaming and lights flashing.

"Do you think…?" Joe started.

"Not a chance." Jon interrupted. "Randy and Machelle are too smart for that." He continued racing through the city streets. Colby looked around, locking the doors as he saw the unsavory neighborhood they had entered.

_I sure hope they aren't around here. This is a nasty area to be in. _Jon slowed up and they began searching the streets from the SUV. "You don't really think…?" Colby asked.

"No. But we have to be sure. I think they are up ahead of us. I think they went this way." Jon assured Joe with a sideways glance.

"Please let that be true!" Joe whispered.

Once through the area, Jon picked up speed and headed for the airport.

* * *

><p>Randy slid his hands up Machelle's arms. "We need to move." With a yawn she woke up from her nap and stretched quietly.<p>

"Did you sleep at all?" she asked softly.

"No, I did rest but I didn't dare sleep. I'm not going to let anyone sneak up on us." Randy said, standing and lifting Machelle to her feet. "Which direction do you want to take now?"

"If we head towards the airport we will be heading towards cameras and security. We want to go the opposite direction, right?"

"Right. Let's go." They checked their hats and made sure that their faces were covered before picking up their bags and beginning their walk. Again.

"The airport?! Really, Jon?! Why would they be here?" Joe nearly shrieked.

"Look for long term parking. Keep your eyes open."

Jon was driving along looking at signs when Colby hollered and pointed, "There!" Jon swung around and headed down a side road, past the airport firehouse and construction equipment, past a long-term parking lot, and towards two people walking along the road. When the people heard the oncoming vehicle, one of them was pushed towards the woods. "I knew it was them! See, Joe? See how Randy is protecting her?"

"Shut up." Joe sulked.

"Can't admit it, can you?" Jon said with a smile as he slammed on the breaks next to Randy.

Colby and Joe opened their doors. Jon remained in his seat, watching the road for danger. Colby greeted Randy. "We are here for you guys. Throw your shit in the back and hop in."

Joe headed for the woods where he thought Machelle went in. "Elle? Come here, hon. Please. Trust me."

* * *

><p><strong>I know this is short. There is still some crazy stuff going on right now and I'm trying to keep upcatch up on my updates. Please bear with me. :)**


	16. Joe Takes Care of Things

**This is the last chapter of LCaL. Yes, I wrapped it up quickly, probably too quickly. Not knowing where things are going with the complaint that was lodged against me (or may have been lodged, she has become so vague), I don't want the story to disappear and leave you guys hanging. **

**The issue at hand is the fact that in a couple of my stories (this is one), I have used the real names of wrestlers. There is the possibility that this violates a rule on the guidelines. I have sent a note to the Admin asking for clarification and said that if I am in violation I will revise/edit stories but that takes time. The Anonymous Guest Reviewer seemed to think that I have no life and can revise/edit my stories overnight - all of them. Competed and in-progress. Since I do have a life, a busy one at that, and some of these stories are 30+ chapters long, this will take some time. I have let the Board Admin know that _IF_ I am in violation, I will revise/edit the stories but I will need time to do so. I would also let you know that it was happening because this affects some of you and your stories. That is the RESPECTFUL way to handle a situation like this, not troll and stalk after people...Anyway, that is where things are at this point.**

**A pet-peeve of mine is unfinished stories that just hang on people's pages in limbo forever. I don't want to do that to my readers, so I decided that I would make sure the stories I had that were possibly an issue would be completed quickly. If this bothers you, I am sorry. Hopefully the next creation that I come up with will make up for it. I will make sure that it is well within the established rules to avoid any drama. I have also set Guest Reviews so that I have to approve them. I did not want to do this, but...I hope the polite and respectful reviewers understand. Drama will not need to go public this way, I hope!**

**Any character that you recognize is owned by themselves or the WWE. Machelle and Matt are my OC's.**

* * *

><p>It didn't take Joe long to pull Machelle from the woods. The couple made a mad dash for the SUV and tucked her into the floor of the back seat. Jon floored the accelerator and wheeled the vehicle out of the city as fast as possible, doing his best to avoid any and all traffic cameras. "Any ideas on what to do next? 'Cause I am fresh out." Randy asked.<p>

Colby said, "You won't like it, but I think we need to split the two of you up. Matt's looking for both of you. Two targets in one place is easy pickin's. Splitting you up makes it more of a challenge."

"Machelle is the most important and he wants her the most." Randy said. "How do we protect her?"

"I have an idea." Joe said. "Matt won't get near her."

"The trial is in four days, in Philadelphia. He's going to amp up his hunting."

"Dude, Joe's not going to let anything happen to his woman. And if this Matt asshole gets close…" Jon growled in defense of his brother.

Randy back-pedaled quickly. "I know he'll protect her, but he didn't see what this guy did. He doesn't know what he's capable of."

Machelle finally spoke up from the floorboards. "I know. I know better than all of you because I've seen it first-hand." The nervous chatter stopped. "Matt was a normal guy. We were a normal couple. We could have been anyone. Then I found out about the girlfriend. When I confronted him, he was so different…so callous…so…unemotional, detached. When I filed for divorce, well, that's when he became violent. He told me a nobody like me should be thankful that someone like him looked at me twice, let alone married me. He said I wasn't getting anything from him; he'd worked hard for everything we had. I wondered what the hell he was talking about because we didn't have anything of value. It wasn't until the divorce was final and I was involved with Randy that I found out he wasn't just an accountant. He has some…um…fast and loose dealings with the books. If I had pushed with the divorce, things could have gotten really ugly. Anyway, he has gotten really crazy, which makes me wonder exactly who he's been working for and what he's been doing for them and with them. The man I married wasn't capable of murder or associating with killers." Elle ended her tale in a whisper.

Joe caressed her cheeks. "He's obviously changed. Sometimes people or circumstances cause that to happen. You couldn't know that or have stopped that from happening. You just have to testify to what you know. And we will make sure you are able to do so."

* * *

><p><strong><em>four days later<em>**

"I make a motion that all charges be dropped against my client. The prosecution cannot produce their supposed star witness. Without her testimony, they have no case." Matt's lawyer stood in front of the judge shortly after the gavel dropped, calling court to order.

The prosecuting attorney rebuffed the claim, "I would like to know where such information was obtained because I never sent documents stating such to their offices."

"Are you denying that your star witness has gone missing? Is she here and ready to testify? Can we see Machelle 'Elle'…" the defense attorney was on a roll.

The court room erupted when Machelle stood up in the back. "I am right here." Jon and Colby opened the door a sliver so Joe, Machelle, and Randy could slip inside minutes before.

Randy stood up at her side. "We are here and ready to testify."

The defense attorney began to fluster and spout non-sensical arguments. "She has to account for where she's been! She can't just show up! We were told she wouldn't be available for trial. We aren't ready to cross-examine her!"

The prosecutor slammed his hand on the table. "Randy and Machelle have been on the witness list since this case was on the docket. They were put in protective custody for a reason and they don't have to account for anything. If you are unprepared, that is not the court's issue. You are required to do your job." Matt turned to level a glare full of hatred at Machelle.

Joe rose to place his arm around her shoulders and his left hand on her bicep, sure to catch Matt's eye. Once it did, he spoke. "Machelle has not been hiding, as some people have alluded to. She and I have been on our honeymoon." Machelle raised her left hand up to catch Joe's hand. "We have the right to celebrate our marriage in private, without drama, so we did. I also have the right to keep my wife whole and healthy." He dropped a kiss into her hair.

"You bitch! First Orton and now Reigns?! Die, bitch! Die! I am going to kill you! KILL YOU ALL!" As the words faded from Matt's mouth, he hurdled the low wall separating the court proceedings from the gallery. He quickly fell to the ground, thanks to the court officer's taser. Marshalls, who were thrilled at the prospect of getting their hands on him, were quick to pounce, restrain, and cuff him. The judge had no choice but to order Matt held for psychiatric observation.

"Now what?" Randy asked Machelle.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked.

She looked up at the tall man beside her and smiled. "I am taking advantage of my last chance at love. We are taking this one all the way, seeing it through to the end." Joe sealed the deal by giving his wife a scorching kiss, reminding Randy who Elle belonged to now.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Until next time!<strong>_


End file.
